After a very strange day at work, I went to Marni and Luke's for dinner.

Now that the cat's out of the bag about Mammoth Object's huge investment, there's some tension between those of us who are but a signature–or in Rina's case, a diploma–away from full-time status, and those who aren't. And I can see both sides, really I can. Nate can't hire everyone yet, which means he basically has to hire one of everything. Because I have seniority, I'm obviously going to get the full-time producer gig before Greg. And Rina has quickly made herself indispensable. She's an office manager, executive assistant, human resources rep, social media manager and web producer all rolled into one insanely overdressed and over caffeinated package. On the two days per week when she isn't here, the office suffers. And Dave has been our off-site editor since day one, holding down a full-time job and then pulling all-nighters for days on end to deliver our projects on time.

Molly's the one I really feel for. She and Rina started together, and Rina has completely surpassed her. She's a hard worker, and she's great. I think what it boils down to is that, when Molly's not here, me and the rest of the production staff just have more of our regular work to do. She needs to have ownership of projects, instead of just supporting the rest of us. I'm going to set up a meeting with her to help her redefine her role and be more proactive. (God, I hate corporate speak. If I ever say "synergy" feel free to cybershoot me.)

When I got to Marni's, I rightfully got an earful about what a neglectful friend I've been.

"You live two blocks away from us," she chided. "And how often do we see you? Never. I get that we're your boring parent friends, but would it kill you to hang out once in a while? I still haven't heard about your New Zealand trip. You sent me a one-sentence follow-up to the ring email, and didn't respond to my questions. I love you, but you kind of suck, K."

"K suck!" Olivia gleefully yelled from the living room floor. She laughed and threw a stuffed dice at me.

Luke slipped out to fire up the grill, and presumably, avoid the rest of our conversation. Marni poured us each a glass of wine, and I caught her up on my job situation, New Zealand trip, and lack of an engagement ring. She filled me in on Luke's promotion, Olivia's milestones, and her new job as a freelance photo editor for a fashion website, which she loves because it gets her out of the house two days per week, and it's fun.

When dinner was ready, I headed into the kitchen to grab condiments. When I closed the refrigerator door, I saw a Save the Date card. For Ed's wedding. And I wanted to barf.

I don't blame Marni for not telling me. I wouldn't tell me, either. And it's not that I even care, really. Aside from feeling bad for the woman who actually signed on to be his wife, the thing that's nagging at me is how badly I want my Save the Date cards hanging on someone's refrigerator. Ugh. A girl sees one engagement ring, and suddenly she's marriage-obsessed.